


Voltron Whump Week 2k17 Day 2: Hypothermia

by carefulren



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Illnesses, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sick Character, Sickfic, all by himself on that snowy planet?, this is what i wish happened lol, ya'll know season 3 episode 5 with sexy long hair shiro?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: a different take on what happened in season 3 episode 5-- the one where long-haired Shiro is travelling alone on that ice planet





	Voltron Whump Week 2k17 Day 2: Hypothermia

It had been a risky leap, but it was either jump for the ledge or fall to his death. Shiro stares up at the snow floating down from the cloudy sky. His leg is throbbing, the snow-covered ground beneath him seeps past his clothes to chill his skin, but he’s alive, and that is a victory within itself. 

He rolls over after allowing himself a brief moment to catch his breath and moves to stand. The second he’s on his feet, the icy wind picks up, whipping against him and feeling like needles jabbing every inch of his body. A grunt slips past his lips, and he goes to take a test step with his injured leg, only to stop at an intense burning sensation shooting up and down his leg. On instinct, he moves both hands to the wound, brows pulling together as he stares out at the icy wasteland of a planet. 

Move, his mind supplies. He has to move and keep moving, but his leg… Just putting pressure on it brings a searing pain to it. He sucks in a shaking breath and tears his already frayed shirt enough for a makeshift bandage. Tying the rough fabric around the wound hurts; his face scrunches up into a tight wince, but he keeps moving his hands until the wound is properly bandaged. 

Another test step, and he’s able to apply enough pressure to walk. It still hurts terribly, but he can walk, and that’s all that matters right now for the wind and snow is starting to get to him in the form of slight shivers wracking his limbs. 

He starts forward, one shaking step at a time. “Keep moving,” he tells himself. He just has to keep moving. 

*****

He walks for hours until his entire frame is wracked with deep set shivers that have him wrapping shaking arms around himself. He’s exhausted, and the snow has picked up into a blizzard, but still, he keeps moving. He stumbles once, muscles strained from exertion and trembling, and he falls to his knees. But, he gets back up as images of Voltron, of his family, flash hot across his mind. Just keep moving, he tells himself. 

He staggers forward for another hour until he spots a massive carcass of something. An animal? Monster? He’s not sure. The only thing he is sure about is that it’s large enough to take shelter in for the sky is taking on the prominent dark color of night, and as luck would have it, there are enough loose pieces of wood around for a fire. 

The temperature’s been dropping rapidly, and he’s growing concerned at his sluggish movements. So, he works as fast as he can to gather the stray pieces of woods, and in just minutes, he’s got a roaring fire going thanks to his Galra hand. 

For a moment, the warmth of the fire burns against his chilled skin, but he stays a close distance until the warmth chases away the chill clinging to his limbs. It’s only then that he moves back some to examine the wound on his leg. He’s careful when removing the makeshift bandages, and he sucks in a sharp hiss at the sight. 

His Galra hand is glowing and moving before his mind supplies the painful solution of cauterization. He sucks in a measured breath and drops the burning hand to the wound, and a piercing scream shoots up his throat as hot pain explodes all across his leg until his entire body is shaking along a stuttering wave of adrenaline and pain. 

He works as quick as he can, and by the time his leg is bandaged once more, his eyes are already drooping closed as the lingering jolts of adrenaline flutter away. He lies onto his side and stares with fuzzy vision at the carcass that’s providing shelter from the snow and wind. 

“What killed you?” He asks quietly before sleep’s long fingers pull him under. 

*****

He wakes to shivers once more running rampant across his limbs. He pries his eyes open to see the fire completely burned out, and he breathes out a low huff, breath clouding in front of him. Outside, he can still hear the wind roaring, and just the thought of going back out in that has his shivering picking up in intensity. 

But, he can’t idle. He knows this. His throat is burning from lack of water, and he’s beginning to feel dangerously low on energy from lack of food. He needs to look for help, for water, for food… for something. He just needs to move. 

His muscles crack and pop in protest as he gets to his feet. He takes a test step once more, and his leg holds, supports his weight despite the dull throb of the cauterized wound. He can do this, he tells himself as he exits the shelter of the carcass. 

If possible, it’s colder than yesterday, and the wind whips the snow in a slant that masks visibility. Shiro instantly wraps both arms around himself and starts forward, head bowed against the fierce wind and snow. 

He walks for around two hours, stumbling up and down large hills until he spots something: a lake, a broken one at that, but a lake all the same. Water, his mind says, and before he knows it, he’s ignoring the pain in his leg as he races toward the source. 

Falling to his knees, he dips both hands into the lake, cupping icy water and bringing it to his cracked lips. It burns down his throat, but the relief outweighs the pain that stems from the water’s temperature, and in a desperate stunt for more, he’s leaning over and dipping his whole face into the water, as if he can’t physically get enough. It burns icy cold against his skin, but he gulps and gulps for an endless moment until he pulls his face out of the lake, small water drops dripping from his hair. 

He stares at his rippling reflection with downcast eyes, wondering how the hell he got here, when suddenly, something that he had thought was a rock in the water is moving toward him. He sits up and tilts his head to the side, watching with a dumbfound expression until the rock suddenly shoots forward, water splashing down all around Shiro. He’s on his feet and running as soon as he sees that the rock isn’t a rock but rather some kind of enemy, but he can’t run fast enough, and he gets hit. 

After that, his mind shifts into fight mode, but his attempts are futile at best. He’s too weak, too cold, and he’s now pinned on the ground with a slimy tentacle wrapped around his throat. He can’t get in a breath in, and he mutters out a strangled “help” just as Keith’s voice shouts in his head. 

_“Get the hell up and fight!”_

His Galra hand takes on a familiar glow, and his muscles tremble as adrenaline sparks hot across his veins. For the next minute, he’s seeing red as he forces the tentacle from his neck and swings his Galra hand down against the enemy, over and over and over, even after it’s down for the count. His chest is heaving in giant swells when he finally stops, and he gets to his feet, knees buckling dangerously. 

He manages five steps before he collapses, and his last coherent thought is ‘don’t!’ before his eyes slip closed. 

*****

He wakes once because he’s shivering hard enough that his entire body hurts. He pulls his knees to his chest, curling himself into a tight ball as he breathes out a stuttering breath. He can hear a second voice in his head; he’s not sure, but it sounds like Keith shouting for him to stay awake. 

He wants to; he really does. Only, his entire body aches from a deep set chill that has made his inner body its home. Before he knows it, his eyes are slipping closed once more.

*****

“-ro! Shiro! Please wake up!” 

Opening his eyes is hard. They feel as if they are frozen shut, but someone is shaking him and yelling at him. He needs to open his eyes to see, but sleep tugs at every crevice of his body. 

“Shiro, dammit! Open your eyes!” 

His eyes fly open, and Keith’s form doubles and triples in front of him. He’s losing his mind, he decides. Keith can’t be here, but then Lance is beside Keith, and Keith is turning and yelling something over his shoulder. Lance’s warm hand presses against his cheek, and it  _hurts._ He recoils on instinct, and Lance jerks his hand back with a deep frown. 

“Keith, he’s too cold, but he’s not shivering.” 

“Dammit. Pidge! Hunk!” 

Shiro tries to sit up, but his arms fail to support his weight. He falls back down with a low groan just as Pidge and Hunk shout for Lance and Keith to move. 

The two obey, and moments later, there’s a burning hot hand against Shiro’s neck and another on his wrist. 

“Stop,” he slurs out. “Hurts,” he adds, voice weak and just as sluggish as his mind. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

Shiro is slow to move his head to the new voice, but he does until his eyes see Allura standing with Lance and Keith. She’s dressed… oddly he thinks. Not normal. Different. He’s not sure. 

“Hypothermia,” Pidge supplies, voice shaking slightly with fear. “And, it’s not good. We need to get him out of here now, but we have to move him slowly.” 

Shiro tries desperately to keep up with Pidge’s quick tongue, but he can’t. All he can make out is the worry coloring her eyes, and he wants to take that away somehow. 

“I can carry him,” Hunk says, already moving to scoop Shiro up. “Just get a lion as close as possible.” 

“Lance,” Keith starts, but Lance is already racing back toward Red at an impressive speed. “Pidge, Allura, go back as well. Get back to the castle, and get a bed set up. Loads of blankets. Take Black with you. I’ll ride with Lance. Hunk can cover us on our way back.” 

The two nod and start at a sprint toward their lions, and Shiro watches them go with his eyes squinting against the snow. He opens his mouth to say something; he’s not sure what, but all that comes out is a sharp cry when he’s suddenly lifted and pressed against icy metal. 

“I know. I’m sorry. Just for a few minutes.” Hunk reassures, keeping Shiro hugged tightly to his chest as he and Keith start back toward the lions. 

The pain is too much, and even though he tries incredibly hard to keep his eyes open, Shiro blacks out, with Keith’s panicked voice the last thing he hears. 

*****

He wakes to hear Keith yelling something: maybe “easy, Lance!” He’s not too sure. He can feel a vibration underneath him, and there are steady, burning hands on his shoulders. He wants to pull away, and a light groan creeps up his throat. 

“Shiro! Are you awake?” 

Keith’s voice is clear the second time. Shiro wants to be awake, but shit he’s tired. His eyes flutter closed. 

*****

Multiple voices pull him from sleep this time. There’s a lot of panicked talking and frantic movement. He’s dimly aware that he’s lying on something soft and warm, and he forces his focus to pull toward the voices. 

“We have to go slowly with this, okay? Trust me. Just let Hunk get in for now, and we will add people slowly.” 

Shiro wants to ask what Pidge means, but suddenly, there’s a dip in whatever he’s lying in, and moments later, he’s being pulled toward hot skin that burns against his. He lets out a sharp hiss and tries to wriggle away, but he’s too tired, and whoever has him is too strong. 

“Easy, Shiro. This will help.” 

The voice is gentle, and Shiro doesn’t fight the exhaustion that pulls him under. 

*****

When he wakes again, he’s shivering hard, almost as if he’s about to shake right out of his skin. His teeth are clacking together loudly, and every inch of his body feels as if it’s covered in a thin layer of ice. A deep groan grates against the back of his throat, and he buries his face into the sudden warmth wrapped around his chest just as the warmth at his back moves closer. 

“Shit, he’s freezing!” 

“You would be too if you were stuck on some freak ice planet, Lance.” 

“He’s shaking really bad. Is what you all are doing not working?” 

Shiro can pick out the voices: Lance, Hunk, and Allura. But, he can’t form words around his trembling lips, nor does he want to. 

“No, that’s a good thing. It means he’s warming up.” 

Smart girl, Shiro thinks at Pidge’s words right before he slips under. 

****

The next time his eyes open, he’s pleased to find that his thoughts are coming together in coherent sentences, and while he’s cold, he’s not shaking nearly as bad. He slowly opens his eyes to see Lance’s sleeping face only inches before his. He cranes his head around slowly to see Pidge draped across his covered feet, and Hunk is plastered to his back. He moves his face back toward the door just as it slides open to reveal Keith walking in with a few folded blankets in his arms.

The two lock eyes for an endless moment before both faces break way to smiles. Shiro nods weakly toward the blankets with an arched brow. 

“They’re for Lance,” Keith says quietly, and Shiro is quick to snap his gaze back to see Lance trembling slightly against him. 

“I tried to swap places with him,” Keith adds quietly as he tucks another blanket around Lance. “But, he told me no, and then he said some stuff in Spanish.” 

Shiro smiles softly. “You found me.”

Keith scoffs lightly. “Of course we found you. We never stopped looking.” 

“Thank you,” he breathes out, and Keith smiles warmly at him. 

“You would do the same for any of us. Now, go back to sleep. You still need rest.” 

Shiro feels as if he’s been sleeping for a thousand years, yet, his eyes flutter closed, and moments later, he’s being pulled toward sleep once more

**Author's Note:**

> i thought about just putting this in my series of H/C one-shots for Voltron, but I spent a really freaking long time on this when I wrote it, so yea.. it's getting a separate upload


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